Decisions, decisions
by Emerald Embers
Summary: Vincent musing on those he loves and has loved. Some yaoi content. Carmilla's birthday present.


Decisions, decisions.

by Emerald Embers

Non-profit fanfiction please don't sue!

Rated R for yaoi goodness and bad language.

Pairings; Vincent/Sephiroth, Cid/Vincent

Dedicated; to the loverly Carmilla on her BIRTHDAY! *pounceglomptackle*

Author's notes; I don't actually like Sephiroth in this one. And I've no idea why. I just don't! Also, I'm really really really sorry if this story is a pile of poop, I've spent hours twiddling away with it but I just can't twiddle it quite right!

  


I was in it for the sex and the company in the beginning. That was all. But it didn't matter, we liked each other, found each other attractive, and both understood that no one would ever replace those who we had loved and lost. And besides, it made life a little easier for the two of us - loneliness aches, even if you've been 'accustomed' to it for many years. There was no way Cid would cope with raising three children and running a house when Shera had taken care of most of the latter job for close to thirty years. To top it all, their eldest child - Sam - had just turned thirteen. Bringing up children alone was hard enough. Bringing up an adolescent alone was nigh-on fatal.

  


I can't even recollect when our friendship developed into this arrangement. First we started regularly sharing sleeping bags and beds when out with Cloud or the others, but it somehow never seemed unusual - we had done it enough times before out of necessity. Then we slept a little closer, and still it did not feel very different. Hell, I once woke him up by grinding into him during a dream and he barely swore next to what I would have expected him to do. I guess the 'definitive' point of change, if there was one, would be the morning I woke up to him watching me, and I just looked straight back at him for several minutes before smiling and kissing him. And the kiss felt just as familiar and expected and natural as any other development.

  


The first time we had sex could almost be called dangerous. Too much adrenaline from battle had left us both desperate for flesh. Many people post-fights are either hungry for food or aching for rest and release. We needed both. We bit and licked and begged for more until the pain became unbearable and we just held on tight as we relaxed slightly, more interested in getting release and then sleeping than the act itself. And I swear that the salt and heat of his skin had made me thirstier than I had been in my life save for after my mission in the desert as a turk.

  


Sometimes it was quite gentle, but I would always ask for more, faster, harder. Cid didn't always deliver because he knew what my body wanted better than what my mind wanted, or perhaps he just liked breaking any rules I tried to lie down around him, but somehow I felt a touch better for at least trying to get roughness out of him. I only ever really wanted my more tender moments of lovemaking to remain special to those two. The mother, Lucrecia, who I had adored shamelessly. And her son with Hojo, the man I despised.

  


Sephiroth.

  


No-one would ever take his place. The moment I first saw him looking across at the reinforced glass case Hojo had sealed me in for one of his experiments, I knew my life might as well have reached its end. All my hopes, dreams, fears and doubts were sucked into his eyes and disappeared as long as those magnetic orbs were still fixed on mine. To watch over this man could be my only purpose. He was achingly beautiful, intelligent, somehow even vaguely innocent.

  


I had wanted to provide Sephiroth with everything. The leather coat he wore almost to the very end had been his choice, but I was the one who had paid for the item. Hojo hated it. All the better. And I had scarcely deterred him from tattooing my initials coupled with a black and red dragon on his left shin. I wonder if anyone ever did ask him about its origins... Hojo would not have needed to ask. Would any of his later lovers have?

  


I remember the vague smirk on my face when I listened to Cloud telling us all how Sephiroth had no tattoos or piercings save for the number '1' on his hand, and the 'mysterious pattern' on his leg. Cloud never has quite mastered translating calligraphy, which seems fairly odd to me as he is quite talented at reading most incomprehensible handwriting. How would the others have reacted if they knew the tattoo referred to me? But then, Cait Sith had proven himself to not only be linked to the Shinra, but a traitor to the group, and he had still been permitted to tag along without too much contempt. If I was found out, Cloud's weakness for anything to do with Sephiroth could have been the damning or saving of me. Probably the latter though; despite everything, Cloud still has a pretty good nature at heart.

  


Sephiroth on the other hand, despite having it in him to be very generous on occasion, was often selfish. He never really had a choice in the matter - thanks to Hojo, he could only ever obtain anything for himself through force as a child. He rarely needed to actually use force on other people though... I was not the only person to be incapable of denying those eyes anything. I can't quite place what it was that made them that way - Jenova, mako, wisdom beyond his years or the complicated jumble of emotions that made him who he was, but it was like a drug. _He_ was like a drug. And though I tried to keep my attachment to him limited, every second I was with him the craving grew. I was hooked, and he knew it.

  


He knew it the day he called me up to his room, where I found him wearing only a satin robe the same sort of colour as his eyes but a touch darker, tied loosely at his waist. And like a hypnotised bird to a snake, I walked inside, pretended to be unaware of his locking the door behind me. At first we talked, nonsense about a recent mission of his, as he closed in slowly for the kill, his 'whispering a secret' bringing his breath right up against my ear while his hand rested on my thigh. I tried to nudge away the hand but this time it rose higher and pressed down upon my groin, making sensations flood through my body that I tried to fight. "Sephiroth, I'm not right for you. I've told you, I'm a sinner, nothing more."

"If you looked into my eyes and kept a straight face when you said that, then I might consider believing you." Amused tone in his voice and look in his eyes as he spoke. Why did he always know how to provoke me or make me feel somehow weaker than him? Granted, I knew at heart that he was much stronger than I, but Turks were supposed to have the ability to disguise their power, or lack of it.

"As you wish," I growled slightly, frustrated by myself and his persistence. "Sephiroth, I..." My voice caught as the expression on his face changed, and before I could restart that sentence his palm was on my groin again, close and yet so maddeningly far from where he was increasingly making it needed. "Ch-cheat." Sephiroth's expression changed again, mischief and promise glinting in his eyes, matched by a smirk.

"Sinner, nothing more," He embellished before he started on the zip for my trousers.

  


Perhaps I should have said no, forced him away when he placed his hand on my crotch the second time. But as usual, I made the mistake of looking at those damned eyes which held no answers, merely made questions meaningless, and I gave in.

  


I had slept with people I liked before, make no mistake about that. But no one, not a single one of them, left me feeling so utterly drained and wanted. He had tasted sweet and bitter, like lemonade slightly short on sugar, and he always, always made me crave more of him. Feeling so completely needed, as though our very lives depended on one another, it was a different experience for me, and new, and alarmingly painful. I felt that possessiveness in his kisses, in his dominance, in the way the hands of ours that were busier with keeping us balanced than other activities gripped tightly, to the point where we found ourselves suffering bruises the next day. It hurt so much, but it was worth it.

  


I had always known it would end badly. It simply had to; Hojo was involved. And no matter how hard I tried, denying Hojo's influence on the course our lives would take was impossible. For the first few months, I could pretend everything was fine fairly decently, but by the fifth, Hojo's experiments were beginning to revolve around Sephiroth again rather than around the new batch of SOLDIERs. Our hastily constructed little paradise was rapidly crumbling, and every time we made love, I started feeling Hojo's needles in my arm again, or his sickly breath on my face. Sephiroth could feel it too, feel my increasing revulsion and fear, even through the haze the mako and Jenova injections often placed upon his mind.

  


I awoke one morning in the early days of our sixth month together to find Sephiroth standing up, burgundy satin sheets wrapped around his waist as he looked out of the window at the Shinra Mansion. We had returned to Nibelheim after Hojo had requested Sephiroth stay close to his laboratory there to save on transportation times and costs. "Awake?" Asked my lover, not needing an answer and thus not receiving one. "That building is where I first saw you. Even so, I still hate it. It holds too many bad memories." A brief pause. "Though I am starting to have trouble remembering the details. An involuntary mental block on my part, it would seem." He turned around at last and released a breath before tilting his head and smiling somewhat bitterly at me. "You woke too late to comfort me this morning."

"Why did you need comforting?" I asked, still somewhat slow-minded from waking up with a headache and a blast of sickly yellow light from the window in my eyes.

"I realised I was losing parts of my memory long before I mentioned it to you today. And this morning, I also realised this means that some day I will forget you. Forget how this started. And forget how it will end." I sat up on the bed, moved my legs to rest over the side.

"What makes you think you will forget?"

"It seems I only forget the details of anything that could cause me pain. Maybe Hojo engineered that memory loss when I was young. But when this ends, until I forget everything that ever went on between us, I will be in pain." He swallowed before his eyes hardened and began to appear distracted. Battle eyes. "Whatever ends this will be the first memory to disappear, as the most obvious source of pain. But once the memory of that goes, I will not be able to bear having memories of something this wonderful that 'mysteriously' left my grasp. I will start forgetting everything. Any memory of you and how you have treated me. If I see you again..." Another pause. "I may not even know you." I closed my eyes, feeling fear, anger and hopelessness rising rapidly at the idea of all this taking place, before I shook my head and looked up at him again, rising to walk over and fold my arms around his waist. Believing this would end was harsh enough, but for me to go on remembering him while he did not know what we had shared was just naked cruelty on fate's part.

"Have hope. In a few more years, perhaps even months, you will have strength beyond any other on earth, and the respect of the most powerful. Even Hojo would have trouble making the President trust his word over yours when the time comes, so if Hojo should wish me dead or removed from your life, you can demand then that I be kept at your side. Hold on to that thought. Please?" Sephiroth's eyes registered that he was considering my suggestion, and a moment later they softened again.

"Very well." The smile returned, though it was a touch cruel this time. "Though I would never have picked you out as an optimist, Mr Valentine."

  


To this day, I don't know how I convinced him with my lie. It didn't even sound believable to me... perhaps it was just desperation for some hope to cling onto that led him to accept my idea. That attempt at optimism never did pay off in the end, though. Hojo's experiments turned to me, and eventually I was knocked out without being forewarned, no chance to say sorry or goodbye. I never had the opportunity to discover when or how Sephiroth realised we would not see each other again, though I knew he would never have asked Hojo outright of my whereabouts. In some ways, I believe he suffered worst. When I awoke to Cloud and his group of friends, straight away I was informed about Sephiroth and his role in the world now. Sephiroth could have spent days, weeks, months trying to find out about me. Did he even know that it was Hojo that had separated us?

  


Yes. Yes, that he would have done. Sephiroth was never a fool, and he knew as well as I did that I would never have left him voluntarily. I was not the type to run away or hide. He knew that I was being kept from him against my will.

  


I pressed my palms up against my eyes, pressing until I saw flashes of white spots before pulling them back again, taking in my surroundings and reminding myself what I was living for now. Sephiroth was past, I had to bear that in mind. He was gone, had been gone for years now. Silver was finally threading itself through my hair despite the decelerated ageing process Hojo had instilled in me, and I was happy here. Happy with this arrangement.

  


Cid stirred at my side, lips very slightly pouty in his last moments of sleep. Cheryl, his youngest, has the same sort of face when she rests, though it is Sam who copies his father's sleeping position. Out of experience, I pity whoever that boy ends up sharing a bed with in later life, because they are going to suffer all too many battles for blanket ownership. After a few seconds of blinking, he seemed to register that I was still looking at him, and a little smile crossed his face as one of his arms went around me, his hand patting me on my stomach and a half-amused tone creeping into his voice. "Mine." I found my smile broadening somewhat before I sat up and shrugged a few aches out of my shoulders, taking hold of his hand and toying with his fingers.

"For now." I glanced across at the door, noting its open state. The memory of Haley, the middle child of Cid's three and the most nervous, walking into the room to ask for a glass of water and screaming because she believed Cid and I had been... fighting... was still all too clear. Anyone who suspects Cid isn't a good father has never seen him calming down his children, because I was starting to get as stressed as the poor girl was when I tried to soothe her, but Cid only needed a few choice words. I'm quite proud to say I have as multi-talented a lover as Cid.

"You're gorgeous to wake up to, you know." I fought the blush that nipped at my cheeks.

"Am I?"

"Yes. Bastard." I laughed at that before smiling at him and running my fingers through his hair, enjoying the little proud smirk on his face. Now _there_ was something only Cid had ever been able to do... make me laugh. Lucrecia had a slightly sullen nature, and Sephiroth's sense of humour was a touch too twisted and bitter for my liking. But Cid's was either completely offensive or surprisingly good-natured. Cid made me human, Sephiroth made me angelic. And I could never honestly decide which I preferred.

  


A few moments passed before Cid's lips were on mine as I had expected. He always had been fond of morning kisses... almost like a hangover from the previous night's events, being as he usually fell asleep quite quickly afterwards. He was not as young as he used to be. And granted, neither was I, but Hojo's experiments had slowed the effects on me. Sometimes Cid would end up on top of me after one of our kisses, his body warming most of mine, and we could lie like that for minutes quite happily. Sometimes we would talk, other times just play with each other's hair or fingers... it was a pleasant way to spend a morning. And due to the slight over-donation of money from thankful people around the Planet, no member of AVALANCHE had to worry particularly about working anymore. No work meant lie-ins like this could occur any time we wanted. And all of us damn well deserved it. Few people have literally placed the fate of the planet on their shoulders.

  


Nonetheless, another minute or so later, Cid pulled back with a little smirk before easing himself out of the bed and shaking his head to try and clear his mind a little. Doing so helped him realise that he was stark naked, and while I appreciated the sight a great deal, I doubted anyone else in Rocket Town would who accidentally passed by the bedroom window. With the possible exception of the slightly mental lady who lived down near to where the rocket had been. And the same conversation began that we had been sharing for a good few months now, each time the real meanings coming closer to being worded. "Cid, if you're going to take a shower," _Which I would love to share with you if that damn bathroom was a touch bigger,_ "Would you like a cup of tea afterwards?" Do you love me, Cid?

"Um... maybe later." _Yes. But your tea is shite._ I can't resist chuckling slightly before getting up on my own, adjusting my nightgown so that it actually covers me instead of framing everything Cid wanted on display last night. "You getting changed?" _What about you? Do you love me?_

"Give me a moment, I need to wake up properly." _I think so... just give me time._ Cid turned around and looked at me in the mirror, his reflection standing on the opposite side of the bed to mine, the distance feeling too sharp at this particular moment, though I could not fully place why.

"You know..." That sounded unfamiliar. I turned to face him, curious. What was the double-meaning to this? "I do love you." And that definitely, _definitely_ sounded unfamiliar.

"... What?"

"Just get the kettle on, idiot." He smirked before heading off into the shower, leaving me dazed and confused as I looked at the small box on the dressing table that I swear had not been there yesterday morning, and the same for the piece of paper pinned underneath it. I could not resist reading... if Cid had not meant me to see this, he would surely have hidden it.

_Hey there gorgeous. It's called a hint. Take it. Oh, and it might be an idea to smile._

"Hn?" I picked up the box and opened it, eyes not quite registering that there was a very definite, very real diamond ring in there.

"SURPRISE!" Shrieked a mid-break teenage voice before Sam pounced up at the window with a camera.

  


It seems subtlety was something he had also inherited from his father.

  


END


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